Going Gangsta
by Le Petite Chef M
Summary: AU. Oishi is an unlucky businessman. So it figures when he moves his printshop to Chicago, his business partner Eiji goes missing. Meeting gangstas, druggies, policemen and even the mayor, Oishi won't stop until he gets Eiji back!
1. Oishi and Chicago

Disclaimer:

I don't own Prince of Tennis. And just so that we don't have any legal problems, I don't own Chicago either. Enjoy the story, leave me a review if you please!

Chapter 1: Oishi and Chi-town

In a small dismal place that the hommies called Chi-town, in an ally so small only the most fo-shizzling folks knew were it was, Shuichiro Oishi was lost, confused, and cornered by three glaring gangstas. It wasn't Oishi's fault, or at least, he hoped it wasn't. He had been trying to re-locate his small print shop in a bigger, classier city. So of course, it would either be New York or Chicago (the shop had first opened in Long Grove, IL). But he had chosen Chicago, or as Eiji called it, 'Chi-town.'

Speaking of Eiji, Oishi began to wonder where his business and all-around partner had wandered off too. He was supposed to be looking for their apartment (331 north dawg in on the north side) but must've gotten sidetracked, because when Oishi did eventually find the apartment, Eiji was gone.

And so Oishi had set off to look for his lost lover in the big city, only to have bumped smack-dat into three very agitated, tired gangstas who had just gotten released from "the pound", or as we normal folks call it, jail.

He knew he couldn't win in a fight. He might be able to outrun them, but he wasn't entirely sure…these guys were pretty buff. He didn't think yelling for help was any good, it was almost 2 in the morning. So that left trying to talk his way out of this, which he wasn't sure he could do, either. But he had to give it a shot. He cleared his throat.

"Ehehe…g-g-good evening, gents…" He stammered and hoped he didn't look to nervous.

The first guy, an African American bodybuilder with a huge fro and tons of bling, looked down on the poor innocent businessman. "Dawg, you kno what 'appenes to du unluckeh dawg who 'esses w'th the hommie brodahs?" (Translation: Dude, you're pissing me and my friends off)

Oishi glanced nervously at the guy next to him. He was at lease 6"3, but kind of fat. He had at least 10 piercings, and tattoos all over his arms. "yaaaah, you tell 'em, Jo-man my homie-g!" (translation: go kick his ass, Jo-man)

"hehe, lookit the li'lle dawg, 'e just fo-shizzled his pants!" The third guy let out a huge belly laugh. He was almost too skinny, with skin that was a might too bit pale, and long, dark hair. He wore a long leather trench coat. "Hey, home dawgs, lesse 'ow much cold green this guy can g've us. Anthen w'll buy us some bling." (translation: mugg him)

Oishi knew this was bad news. He needed to think quickly, wasting time could mean being robbed, or worse…! No, he couldn't think like that. Not if he wanted to get out of here alive. That first guy…his name was Jo-man, wasn't it. Hmmmm.

"Uh…s-so you're the "hommie brodahs? I've heard of y-y-you…I h-h-heard that you…gulp" This wasn't good. He was loosing it. He needed to stay focused.

"Yeuh, w'ere the hommie brodahs, an' o'course you 'eard of uz. Cos w'ere like, phunk yo'." The pale thin guy snapped his fingers. "Hey, Jo-man, mah hommie g, les giv 'em the lowdown." (translation: yeah, we're famous and all that sh. Jo-man, kindly introduce us?)

Jo-man struck a pose. The other two started making weird "gangsta" sounds, and Jo-man rapped along.

"Yo yo, mah name iz Jo-man, I'm the first hommie g, of the hommie brodahs, that's the home dawg three yo', we got bling we got faim, we got the girls we got ghetto yo'. An' we're the hommie brodahs, yeah.

There's the second hommie g, he's a son of a bit, he's got no good side to him, yeah, we call 'im Bis oh yeah oh yeah…(he pointed to the fat guy)

And then there's the third part, he's the brains o' duh trains, he got that creepy thin body and that cool cool skin, he's the last awesome homedawg of the hommie dawg three, yeah, his name's Antonio Bob Sylvester Albert Rogers! but we call 'em ABS

And then the last, awesome part, of the hommie brotha's three, we got no bat-"

'BBBBUUUURRRRNNNNIIINNNNGGG! BUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING!"

CRASH POW GOLLY GOSH GEE DANG WHIZ NO! MAJOR A KICKEN' HERE

Unfortunately for them, The hommie brodahs didn't get to finish they're song. Because at that moment, police inspector Takashi was on patrol duty, meaning he had a gun. Which meant…death for all those who broke the laws…shudder

Well, all this caught Oishi by surprise. Maybe it was all the excitement of moving to a new city, maybe it was the awful song the gangstas had been singing, maybe it was the three beers he had drank before going out to look for Eiji…it was probably those beers…sneaky things…anyway, the last think Oishi heard before he fainted was three shots fired and a horrible, wretched scream of "BUUUUUUURNING BULLETS!"

…to be continued

So, how'd everyone like it? I can't wait to show you who the other characters are…oh man I have this huge thing for Kaoru…insert maniacal laughter here anyway, I would appreciate three reviews.

That's the "low down", my hommies! Three reviews 'till the next chapter! Until then, fo-shizzle out!


	2. Oishi and the Police

Disclaimer:

A mighty thank you to everyone who reviewed, it really makes writing the story come along much faster. In fact, I've decided to save them ALL! Muahahaha! So anyway, I don't own Prince of Tennis, Chicago, or the S.W.A.T. now own with chapter two!

Chapter two: Oishi and the policeman

Oishi woke up and panicked. After a quick analysis, Oishi was in what seemed to be a prison cell. But that couldn't be true…he hadn't done anything bad…

Well, being the ever-so-smart business man he was, Oishi got out of his hard, lumpy bed and took a look around the cell. A small sink, a bored with a bad mattress, a sink and toilet, and a small tray of food that looked inedible. Great. Just great. Not even two days in the big city and he was already in trouble with the fuzz.

While Oishi was mopping and feeling sorry for himself, the inspector who had caught Oishi and the gang came to see if their prisoner was awake. The inspector was a strange man; he was mostly mild-mannered and kind, and extremely calm. But put a gun and a cop's hat on him and he became the most dangerous man in the force. The last thing many criminals had heard was his war cry; BUUUUURNING BULLITS! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!

Yes, inspector Takashi Kawamura, called Taka by most of his friends, was a strange one alright. But no strange than the sight that awaited the inspector as he went to check up on his refugee. You see, they would've given him a better room, but the one spare room they had was taken by some idiot street vendor who happened to be at the scene of the gang beating.

Oishi, thinking they had arrested him, had knelt down on the toilet in an attempt to make a mini-alter and offer his prayers to G-d. Which wasn't really working, seeing as the toilet had no lid. So he had ended up getting his foot stuck in the toilet, which is what Inspector Taka had walked in on.

"Erm…I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" the inspector asked and scratched his head.

Oishi, having no idea what was going on, somehow wrenched his foot free of the toilet and bowed in front of Inspector Taka. "PLEASEKINDSIRIDIDNOTHINGWHYAMIHEREINEEDTOGOSAVEEIJI!"

"Eh? What was that…get a squid evacuated?" Taka was even more lost now.

Oishi's face got as red as a radish. "Ah…I'm sorry. What I meant to say was, why am I here! I'm the victim! I was going to be mu—"

"I know, I know. We just didn't have a spare room to put you in, so we had to put you in a cell. Ok? Calm down, 's all going to be ok. See, the door isn't even locked."

True to his words, the cell door was open.

"Now then, I just need to take you in for questioning, sir, and then you're free to go." He winked at Oishi, who in return, smiled.

"Phew…that's good…" Oishi wanted to dance, to sing, and shout in joy, but he somehow contained it all and then remembered his manners. "Ah…forgive me. I haven't told you who I am, yet, have I…"

Taka patted the confuzzled business man on the shoulder and replied, "Don't worry about it. We'll get it all sorted out after the trial. I'm inspector Takashi Kawamura, but just call me Inspector Taka. And y—"

"Wait a minute, what trial?" Oishi asked, even more confused.

"Oh, that's right. I didn't tell you did I…" the Inspector laughed. "Those three gangsters were arrested and are being put on trial. As the victim, you're a key witness, as is our other guest…"

"Other guest?" Oishi was extremely interested. Maybe this "other guest" was Eiji…had the police found him?

"Yeah…a street vendor who was at the scene of the crime."

Well, there went Oishi's hopes of finding Eiji. Hmmm…well, this was a police station…they could probably run a missing persons case. And then Eiji would be all his again!

"Inspector, I was wondering if—"

"FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

(Insert many crashing and cursing here)

Oishi tried to stand up from the clutter of random CD's, DVDs, and other goods but found that someone was lying across his legs. A someone wearing a long trench coat, sunglasses, and had spiky black hair and a stupid smile.

"Hehehe…you're a very luck person, you know that?" The man brushed himself off and stood up, then offered Oishi a hand.

"Lucky, am I?" He gladly accepted the hand.

"Yup. Because today is the day that I'm free! Free from this police madness! Free, free FREEEEEEEEE!"

Meanwhile, the Inspector looked on, half amused, wondering what to do. In the end, he decided just to watch and see what would happen.

"So then, young man…" He removed his sunglasses and made a formal bow. "The name is Momoshiro Takeshi. How'd you like illegal crack? On me." He hastily picked up his goods, and stuffed them in his seemingly bottomless pockets.

"Eh? You realize there's a police officer right there…" Oishi pointed to Taka.

"Heh, no worries. He won't do anything in his current state. Now then…" He pulled out a pouch of drugs.

"Ah, no thank you, Mr. Momoshiro…" Oishi took a step back.

"No no, call me Momo. Say, what's your name, dude?"

At this, Inspector Taka perked up. "Yes, yes, I still need to file a report on you. Both of you, actually. We can discuss matters in my office. This way, if you please."

To be continued…

Yeah yeah, I know it wasn't that long, but I'm really eager to start on the next chappy (a big fat surprise for all of you!)

So enter Taka and Momo, btw I don't own the street vendor idea, it belongs to a reviewer, thanks a million for the idea!

Anyhoo, three reviews, if you please! Wow…I like that phrase…"if you please"…haha, gotta make a mental note of that one…


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